I am sitting in a courtroom for my pre-trial conference because some bozo of a school bus driver decided his day needed excitement and told the police I drove past his bus, lights flashing. An uneasy feeling begins to creep along the side of my brain when I realize the last time I sat in a courtroom was my divorce and that didn't go too well either. That might have been due to the idiotic shady attorney I hired on the advice of a co-worker whose husband was eventually deterred by a state trooper who found a large chunk of cocaine and a loaded revolver on the front seat of his car. And that attorney? He is currently in federal prison and will be for a long time due to threatening a witness. And the beat goes on . . .
There are about thirty people here, all degenerates like myself and I notice the wardrobe choices of the woman ahead of me. She is wearing skin-tight black jeans and six-inch black fake leather boots and when she bends over to sign the attendance sheet a large sequinned heart on each of her buttocks winks at me.
The assistant county attorney walks in pulling a suitcase on wheels and it is full of red files and one of them will be mine. He has a large chest and an immense belly that hangs halfway to his knees. In an attempt to cover up this physical mishap he has tied his very orange tie so that the front piece is twice as long as the usual observed tie and the back piece is only a few inches. Like all fashion faux pas it only accentuates what was intended to be hidden.
And then the judge walks in and I couldn't make this up any better. He has one eye that is dead-on center square and the other one lolls off to the left. Don't you just hate that because you never know which eye to look at and by the time you decide you're frustrated and the other guy is totally pissed at you for not figuring it out.
Again I wait almost two hours for a four-minute conference and I feel like an insignificant animal in an insignificant herd. I am never driving near a school bus again. And the worst is yet to come.
There are about thirty people here, all degenerates like myself and I notice the wardrobe choices of the woman ahead of me. She is wearing skin-tight black jeans and six-inch black fake leather boots and when she bends over to sign the attendance sheet a large sequinned heart on each of her buttocks winks at me.
The assistant county attorney walks in pulling a suitcase on wheels and it is full of red files and one of them will be mine. He has a large chest and an immense belly that hangs halfway to his knees. In an attempt to cover up this physical mishap he has tied his very orange tie so that the front piece is twice as long as the usual observed tie and the back piece is only a few inches. Like all fashion faux pas it only accentuates what was intended to be hidden.
And then the judge walks in and I couldn't make this up any better. He has one eye that is dead-on center square and the other one lolls off to the left. Don't you just hate that because you never know which eye to look at and by the time you decide you're frustrated and the other guy is totally pissed at you for not figuring it out.
Again I wait almost two hours for a four-minute conference and I feel like an insignificant animal in an insignificant herd. I am never driving near a school bus again. And the worst is yet to come.
1 comment:
They are serious about their buses eh??
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